


Un chapeau américain

by invisiblechick



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ficlet, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Science Boyfriends, Science Bros, possible thor 2 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 17:54:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1356607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisiblechick/pseuds/invisiblechick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a first line prompt from Tabichan:</p>
<p>"Cowboy hats were never flattering on Tony Stark, but he could never resist the opportunity to wear one."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Un chapeau américain

**Author's Note:**

> The French title is because I like to feel pretentious, sometimes. Also, because Tony speaking French in Iron Man 2 was hot. It's actually all in English.

Cowboy hats were never flattering on Tony Stark, but he could never resist the opportunity to wear one. So, when he found a dark brown Stetson perched on the corner of the penthouse bar, he popped it on his head without thought. There it stayed, slouched slightly over his left eye, as he poured himself a drink.

 

“Sir, there is a call for you from Dr. Banner, shall I put it through?”

 

“Need you ask? Shame on you, Jarvis, making my Brucey-bro hold!”

 

“Apologies, sir. I shall connect him immediately.” The “asshole” unspoken, but heard none-the-less. Tony baffled momentarily at the amount of awesome he had programmed into his AI, yet again, before switching his attention to the image that had popped up in front of him.

 

“Bruce, Green Bean! Long time no hear! What's my favorite personification of a personality disorder up to?” Bruce rolled his eyes a bit at the description, but ignored it otherwise. It wasn't the least accurate description he'd ever heard of the other guy, after all.

 

“I was calling to let you know I'm in New York, and was wondering if that offer of a bed and lab space were still open. Now, though, I'm mostly concerned with what the hell you have on your head.”

 

“As if you need to ask. You're name is on the door, man. Like, you have your own Hulk-sized express elevator. And, this is a hat. A cowboy hat. Specifically, it is a beaver felt Stetson.” At least, Tony assumed as much, he hadn't actually checked the label before dropping the hat on his own head. He just liked to assume that no one would dare leave a cheap knock-off wannabe in his penthouse. Although, that did raise the question, “I'm not exactly sure whose hat it is though, or how it ended up here.”

 

“You're wearing someone else's hat, which you found lying around.” There is infinite patience in Bruce's voice at this statement.

 

“Well, yeah. It's a cowboy hat, Bruce.” How Bruce can miss the obvious connection, is beyond him. Cowboy hats are meant to be worn. There still exists, much to the chagrin of both Pepper and Fury, pictures of Iron Man mounting a Saguaro, with a straw cowboy hat perched on top of the helmet. He may have had a copy of that as his desktop wallpaper for awhile.

 

“And you don't think that's slightly...unsanitary?”

 

“Maybe...? But it's a cowboy hat! A Stetson!” As if that was argument enough. And really, for Tony, it was.

 

Bruce, however, pinched the bridge of his nose, and tried one more time to understand. Understanding Tony had become one of his life's missions, somehow. As if he didn't have enough of those.

 

“Tony, you don't let other people hand you things. You've had entire parts of the tower rebuilt, because you thought there may be a chance of cross-contamination from, I quote, 'Loki cooties.' And yet, you plop a hat on your head without second thought to who has worn it before, where it may have been, or how it ended up in your private space without your knowledge. Help me understand, please?”

 

“Well, no one can get in here that I don't want in here. At least, not since that cootie-breather breathed his last. And anyone that could have been in here to leave it, would have to be someone I, well, trust. I don't mind sharing a few head germs with the people I trust. Especially if it means I get to look this awesome doing it.”

 

Suddenly, a voice floats down from the ventilation system, surprising both Tony and Bruce on the other end of the call.“Well, gee, that just makes me feel all warm and squishy inside! You can't keep my hat though, asshole.”

 

“Barton! Get your ass out of my duct work!”

 

The End

 


End file.
